Windswept
by Julia West
Summary: Everything in the life of Sanosuke Sagara was perfectly normal, until a figure from his past changes his very world.


Note from the Author: Alright, this is my first real attempt at writing and finishing a fanfiction of any kind. At one point I was on page 52 of a Harry Potter story, but that one never left the garage. Oh well. I hope you guys like this. It's going to be quite long, but split into short chapters. I might reformat it later and put it up on a permanent site, but this is just the rough draft to test on all ya'll. Bear with me.  
  
It was a warm, sunny morning and Sanosuke Sagara lay awake on the floor of the Kamiya Dojo with his liquid brown eyes directed at the ceiling. He was flat on his back, his right arm crooked above his head and his left hand resting on his upper stomach. Images of a nameless face flickered hauntingly across his mind, sparking old memories that he couldn't put his finger on. Unable to go back to sleep after awakening far before dawn, Sanosuke had spent the past hours sprawled out in the middle of the large room, barely able to focus on one particular thought for more than a few seconds.  
  
He drew in a long breath of air and let it out in a heavy sigh, arching his back and sitting up with a tired huff. He ran his fingers through his naturally spiked, dusty brown hair and used the heels of his now grounded hands to push himself up to his feet. After shifting his weight from leg to leg, he gave his shoulders a roll, taking a few steps towards the canvas door of the Dojo, his feet making barely any sound as they tapped lightly on the smooth wooden floor.  
  
Sanosuke reached out to idly drag the palm of his hand along the paneled walls of the room, finally reaching its front. His eyelids felt heavy, but he decided that further attempts to get any more sleep would simply be a waste of time. Once he had grabbed hold of the side of the door, he slid it open in one fluid movement, standing under its overpass and gazing out across the terrain in front of him. He closed his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He let out a contented sigh as the pleasant outdoor breeze caressed his face. He felt somehow refreshed and the disturbing thoughts and memories vanished from his mind. Left in their place was a delightful and serene calm, which was certainly welcome in such a troubled place. Sanosuke was finally at peace… and yet…  
  
"Sano, what are you doing, you lazy freeloader?" screeched a shrill voice from behind Sanosuke. He jumped abruptly and whipped around, his heart in his throat.  
  
"What in the – You scared me to death!" choked Sano, resting his eyes on Kaoru Kamiya, his overbearing landlady. Kaoru pressed her fists into her hips, a very unattractive scowl on her face. She lifted a hand and waggled her finger at Sanosuke.  
  
"Don't you talk to me like that," she scolded. "Get dressed, we're all going to head down to the Harvest Festival," she said, adding in a sarcastic tone, "It would be a shame if we had to leave you behind." With that, Kaoru turned her back to Sano and as she walked a way, something along the lines of "ungrateful" could be heard.  
  
Sanosuke rolled his eyes and shut the door with a rattling slam. He then walked rather heavily to the other end of the room, following in Kaoru's path to the dining area. Kaoru and the other tenants of the Kamiya Dojo were sitting around the squat little table that stood in the middle of the floor. All of them looked sleepy and extremely irritated. Everyone except Kenshin, that is. His eyes were opened to their full extent and he was looking around perkily from person to person. Sano smirked and leaned on the side of the doorway, crossing one leg over the other, sliding into a slinky position. He folded his forearms over his chest for comfort.  
  
"Hey, Himura, what's got you so excited?" asked Sano, jerking his chin in the direction of the table. Kenshin looked up and smiled keenly.  
  
"Beautiful weather, huh, Sano? Perfect for a day of fun at the Festival, that it is," replied Kenshin with a bright attitude. That's just the way he was. Nobody would ever guess that he was the Hitokiri Battousai, a man who had brutally murdered hundreds of his own kind. No, Kenshin had turned over his sword for the title of Rurouni, the wanderer, until he stumbled upon the Dojo and made his home there. Sano admired Kenshin greatly and had also repented from his ways as a sword-for-hire to follow Kenshin's way of life. The philosophy of using a sword only to protect was the foundation of all Sanosuke now believed in, and he intended to keep it that way.  
  
After a startling snap from Kaoru, Sano found his seat at the table, moodily shoveling down his breakfast, but not without a good case of whining about the quality of the food. Kaoru's cooking wasn't known as the best meal in Kyoto, that's for sure. 


End file.
